


Sherlock's Love Letters

by AlessNox



Series: University Days [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Chemistry, Hydrogen, Linear A, Linguistics, Loss, Love, Love Letters, Lovesick, M/M, Science, Sex, Shoes, Tragedy, slash pure and simple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlessNox/pseuds/AlessNox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He doesn't feel things that way, I don't think," John had said until he had seen the picture of Sherlock with Victor Trevor. </p><p>Based on the story Meeting Victor.<br/>Wild speculative love letters for an unusual couple.</p><p>Audio version: http://alessnox.dreamwidth.org/25048.html</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Linear A

_When John met Trevor, he could not be sure._  
 _He suspected, but then he could not say,_  
 _How close the two had been when they were young,_  
 _Until he found this Journal one fine day._  
  
Letter 1  
  
I wanted to write you a love letter in Linear A.  
Because no other language would do. The only language worthy of describing you is a language that no one has yet deciphered. Because no one has deciphered you, my love. No one but me.  
  
The symbols twirl round and round in spirals. I trace them with my tongue across the small of your back, as you lie face down on the bed reading texts in ancient Egyptian. You mutter the names of the Pharaohs and their wives. Wives who were their sisters. Who wore dresses that you could see through, so the drawings say.  
  
I write instead a poem in Linear B.  
Because at least in this I have the words to say that you are my King and I am yours to shape, to rule, to conquer as your own.  
  
I wish that I could speak as well as you. In fifty languages you charm me so. And when I ask you to teach me, you kiss my hand, and then you speak its name in Russian and in Chavacano. You kiss my neck and say the word in Greek, Egyptian for my nose, Phoenecian for my eyes. Finnish upon on my knee, Hebrew my thigh, and then use gutter English for the rest.  
  
I stop a moment trying to remember the symbols used to say "a golden tongue". I write the words twirling round in a spiral, outward across your spine and on your back. I pull your pants down lower as I write more symbols on the hills above your thighs. You turn around and ask me what I'm doing then, and when I tell you, you give that wicked smile.  
  
Your arms so strong. The muscles tense as you toss me on my back, climbing over me, oh my king. Your glasses fall low on your nose as you kiss my lips. So soft, my eyes must close, and then I feel your golden tongue. It fills my mouth with light as I start to glow. A glow that spreads throughout all my body and out through my hair, my fingers, and my toes.  
  
Your hands that wrap around me was it _рука_ (roo ka)? I ask as you pull it up and down in time with a song that you sing in my ear. A song from ancient Sparta that they sang in battle when they cried upon the field. I cry along in time.  
  
My fingernails they bite into your back. Cutting into the words that I wrote there as you row upon me as on a Greek _trireme_ stroke after stroke after stroke. The Greeks conquered the world in ships such as these. They conquered them as you have conquered me.  
  
You cry out and your glasses fall onto my chin. Gold-rimmed glasses like your golden tongue, and I your golden boy melt beneath. A golden river flowing, glowing, radiating out my warmth with a sigh. Lighting up the world with my Joy.


	2. Hydrogen

Letter 2

Today I bought myself a pair of shoes.  
Brown leather, they fit me like a glove.  
So tight that I can stand on my toes like a child.

I stood on my toes today, and stared inside the window where you taught.  
A dozen red-faced boys, all in a row, were there before you singing songs of peace.

There is no peace when you are away from me.  
My heart, it always needs to have you near.  
My mind wars with the problem of a locked door.  
I climb a fence and find another way.  
My glove-like shoes allow my feet to run,  
across the tiles that roof your home.  
I drop down from the window to the floor  
into your room to wait upon your bed.

Hydrogen is what describes us best.  
You are the proton and I the electron circling.  
Two parts making one mass, one AMU.  
The most elemental atom of them all.

What drives electrons in their orbits?  
What makes them ever circle round and round?  
The force that drives them in their deep devotion,  
I know the answer now, it must be love.


	3. Aromatic synthesis

Letter 3

In the lab today while engaged in a synthesis reaction, quite by accident, I formed a scent that reminded me of you.

The compounds combined in such a way as to simulate my olfactory nerves, the aromatic chemicals evaporating in the air, some minor quality reminding me of your scent, of your body, enough to drive away all thoughts of work.

I was overcome, I had to leave the lab, as if from overwhelming smoke or fumes. That scent drove me away to somewhere quiet where I could imagine you and I together once again. 

I need to take a bit of you and run it through the spectroscope to analyze what makes your smell attract me so. Examining the C-H bonds to find, the special combination that is you. I'd concentrate it, and keep a vial of it inside my pocket, for anytime that I needed to be reminded of your face, of your touch, of your smile. 

But then again, I never need reminding, you are constantly in my thoughts. Your face inserts itself in my equations. You sit in the margins of my pages of derivations. I'm always looking back on our moments together. You are a more constant reference than the periodic table. 

What is the procedure to synthesize a meeting between you and I? A reaction that starts with two reagents and ends with one? What conditions must be met? Some wine. A fire. I write out the steps, but this is all theoretical. Simply derivations on a sheet of paper, because despite my fantasies, you are not here, and all that I have of you is an echo of a memory of your scent.

But if I could only find the equation to make it work between us, I am sure that it would be a combustion reaction, creating heat and light and smoke. I feel as if I would sublimate at your touch, passing straight into a gas from my desire. I may combust simply from the thought of you. The memory of your strong fingers on my neck, the feel of your kiss upon my cheek. 

I burn for you now, a slow burn. Simmering like a coal in the ashes simply awaiting oxygen to light. You are my oxygen, and I am waiting for you. Your glance alone could set me ablaze. I'm seething here burning with slow desire, lost in my want, needing you near.

Please come and give me the reagents, that I can use to form a state of bliss. Together we'll form a new conformation. The activation energy, your kiss.


	4. Fulfullment

Letter 4

My life before was a dream.  
Nothing was real for me before last night.  
How can I have been changed so much by one simple act?

It's not as if I didn't know the mechanics of it all. I understood each step, I'm not a fool.  
And the chemistry is not so difficult to master either, pheromones, oxytocin, epinepherine, simple reactions.

I even thought I understood the emotions, I've fantasized about it often enough.  
Sitting on my bunk, while my roommate was away in drunken orgies with his friends,  
even as I reviled him, I felt that my desire was so much higher so much purer in it's way.

But none of those dreams prepared me for what you did.  
Even though you had sworn that you never ever would, you came down from heaven to grace me with your kiss. 

I hid my words from you, but you could always read my thoughts through my eyes.   
How I longed for you, how I needed you. And when you said that you might go away, how could you fail to see that my heart was breaking. Oh how I hate to use such an inaccurate term. It was the world that was breaking. My world, my life, that I had unconsciously formed into something that required two to hold, you and I. Like the pillars of a temple, without you, my life would fall, tumbling into ruin and despair.

I transformed in your presence yesterday. The boy who was, is gone forever. I've changed from your devoted follower to your lover. From standing behind you to standing beside you. Hand in hand we will take on the world.

What can we not do if we are together? Two geniuses conjoined, the world is ours to conquer or reshape. Who could oppose us? Who would wish to when they saw your radiant smile?

You are brilliant, like the ancient gods, and at your side I feel as if I am a god as well. Throwing our lightning bolts on all around us, like sodium in the college pond.

I still can hardly believe my own good fortune. How can so much have changed, after only one bottle of wine and one night?


	5. Forgive me

Victor, please don't leave me.

Forgive me. I was an idiot. Blame it on the science. The professors tell me that truth is always right. I did not think that in this case it might be wrong. People are not my area. I've told you that. I didn't know that telling the truth would hurt you. If I could take it back I would. 

Victor, please forgive me.

I can't go on without you. My chest is constricting. I can't breathe thinking of you going away. Your friendship is the one thing in my life that has ever made sense. Please don't discard me for just one mistake. I will do anything, say anything to get you to forgive me. I'd even leave school and go with you if you asked.

I feel as if I've been tossed out of Eden, because I took a bite from the tree of knowledge. I'll spit it out, I'll throw the apple away, just let me stay with you. Please don't leave me behind in this barren wasteland. I am nothing without you. You are my sun. Without you I have no warmth, no light. I'll be cold, and sad, and lonely. Life without you is boring and pointless.

I beg you, and you know I never beg, please give me just one more chance.


	6. Pointless

Victor,

I've given up morphene, just as I've given up you.

Emotion is the fly in the ointment, the crack in the lens.

It makes me lose my concentration. It muddles my thoughts.

I've given up emotions, and good riddance.

 

The mind is a machine.

To work at peak efficiency it must be kept free from superfluous chaff.

These thoughts of you have held me back, guy wires holding me down, preventing my flight.

 

My mind is a palace.

So long it has been shuddered and dark.

But now it is bright and clean and strong, now that I have cleaned away all thoughts of you.

I can solve problems so much faster when I am not wasting time pining over you.

 

I find myself moving forward again without you here to distract me.

I will delete you from my mind. Leaving me space for more deductions.

 

Now I use a seven percent solution of cocaine to jumpstart my brain so that my mind races.

When I thought of you, my mind went only in circles, never coming to any new conclusions, never finding any answers.

It pains me to admit it, but my brother was right, "Caring is not an advantage".

I won't ever make that mistake again.

 

I don't even know why I'm wasting time writing this.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Sherlock's Love Letters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653502) by [AlessNox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlessNox/pseuds/AlessNox)




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